Page 38 of Just a Plot Twist (Tate Brothers #7)

Claire

A call comes in from Sophie the morning after the big Tate family dinner.

My stomach is still full and tender from the meal—I ate steak and salmon. I gingerly answer the phone. “Soph? Why is it still dark outside?” I say with a croak.

“You don’t have to sound so excited about it,” I grumble.

“Obviously, you’re not in the mood to talk, so I’ll get right to it. Grandma and Grandpa called—they’ve probably been up for hours. Anyway, do they know you’re dating Benson?”

Crap. About that.

“Uh, why do you ask?” I’m suddenly awake.

There’s a pause on the other line, as if Sophie’s trying to decide how much to tell me.

“Because I would have thought she’d mention it to me, like ask me if he’s good enough for you and complain about how you’re the smart one and are supposed to run for office before you become an old married lady like me. ”

“Wow, you have some grandparent issues, don’t you?”

Sophie laughs it off. “These things run through my head on occasion. Anyhoo.” She pauses to coo at Elizabeth, and then: “You should tell them about Benson.”

“I will.” And I’m going to. Very soon. “I don’t know how to say it, exactly. For reasons you’ve already articulated.”

“Yeah. You haven’t been on this side of our grandparents’ disdain for like, forever, so I feel ya. It sorta sucks.”

“You think they’ll feel disdain?” Now I sit up. Of course they will. “They’ve met him already, though, remember?”

“Yes, but do they know who he is?” She punctuates those last few words so clearly, there’s no mistaking what she means.

“He’s not a Tate, Soph. Not technically.”

“He’s half Tate. And he works for the grand pooh-bah of them all. This is not going to go over well, especially considering how unhappy Grandma seems lately.”

“You’ve noticed too?” I ask, surprised.

“Oh yeah. I don’t know if it’s the stress of the anniversary or something else, but it’s been bad lately.”

I swallow down the alarm. “What can I do? ”

“Tell them soon. Like a band-aid, right off. Besides, maybe they’ll care less since you wouldn’t actually have the last name of Tate, unlike me, AKA their greatest disappointment.”

“First of all, no. You’re not a disappointment to anyone. But, also?” I pause, letting the indignity of her remark wash over me. “I’m not going to marry the guy.”

I laugh it off. That’s a ridiculous notion. We’ve only been dating a couple of weeks.

Except, it’s not a ridiculous idea.

Because he’s gotten in my blood, that man. He’s everything Chad and Tad could never, ever be and a million times more than what I dreamed I could have.

I…like him. More than that, I think I’m falling in love with him. And you can’t date a guy with two awesome kids without the future being front of mind. There can’t be anything super casual when you date a guy with kids.

Sophie gives up a snort. “We’ll see. But either way, you need to tell them.”

“Thanks for the life advice, sis.” She can’t see me roll my eyes, so she just keeps talking.

“Especially since…they told me something…interesting and totally not cool.”

“What?” My heart plunges to my middle.

“Well, they were asking me if I was aware of the hostilities between the Schillers and the Tates. And how Thomas was totally out of line and how this was so typically Tate. They actually used those words. They were talking about Thomas, not Oliver. They love my husband, even though they don’t want to admit it.

But really, Claire. They’ve got it out for Foundations. ”

Benson is Foundations. He’s invested so much heart and soul into his father’s company that he’s become irreplaceable there.

“Did you know Grandma and Grandpa and the Schillers go way back?” I ask.

“Yeah, they’re longtime friends from when he lived in Boulder.

Anyway, he’s making a big stink about how Foundations fired him without cause, and they’re upset about it.

They said Peter wants to fight the termination.

Maybe Grandma and Grandpa are looking for dirt on Foundations that they can give the Schillers? ”

It’s hard to breathe. “Why do they care? Peter was working behind Thomas’s back to steal some of his clients.

He and his daughter are starting their own company.

And yeah, don’t say anything about this, but they’re filing an injunction.

The Schillers can’t continue to solicit Foundation’s former clients, but the damage is already done in some ways. ”

“Well, that sucks. And maybe I’m totally wrong, but I get the sense that, for Grandma and Grandpa, it’s less about supporting the Schillers and more about trying to make things harder for the Tates.

” She sighs. “I’m tired of this. It’s been years since Sebastian bought the land they wanted. They need to get over it!”

“I agree. Hey, look. Can you hold off on talking with them about it? I will, I promise. I just need to figure out what to say.”

“Sure. I’m disappointed that Thomas’s president did that, but like I told them, I didn’t know anything about it.”

“Yeah, Thomas was trying to keep things quiet. I doubt he’s talked to his other sons about it.” Dread pools inside of me. “If you hear anything about that, please let me know,” I implore .

Sophie says she will. “And hey, I want to bring you a milkshake soon, okay? What’s your flavor of the month?” she asks.

I like to sample the entirety of the menu because I don’t discriminate against ice cream. But Sophie’s a diehard fan of one milkshake at the place near Longdale Lake, Shake, Shake, Shake.

“Anything but your peanut butter black licorice monstrosity,” I say.

She feigns mock indignance. I’ve hated on her favorite flavor for years.

Now I’m not only wide awake, I’m stewing. I need to talk to Grandma and Grandpa about dating Benson, that he’s a part of the Tate family, and about their connection to the Schillers.

I just have no idea how.

And another thing that is hard? Perhaps becoming a stepmother to Dax and Indie.

I sigh and bury my head in my pillow. I love them. They’re bright and funny and respectful. Seeing the love the three of them share fills me with happiness.

But I never wanted to be a stepmother.

The other night, outside The Summit restaurant with Indie, I was out of my element—like a foreigner in a strange land.

And even though it ended up okay, it was scary to feel so out of my depth.

I was an outsider. My tongue was so tightly tied, and I didn’t have any clue about the proper boundaries between us.

I hated not knowing what I should or shouldn’t say or do.

I can’t be a mom to her and Dax—they already have a good one.

Can I do this?

Becoming a stepmom wasn’t ever in my plans. Suddenly, I’m stuck, like I’m under the surface of Longdale Lake, struggling to break free .

And I can’t breathe.

“You have the perfect wave right here.” Benson’s staring at my hair and I don’t hate it. I’m sitting so close to him that how could I hate anything?

We just dropped the kids off at their mom’s house in Highland’s Ranch. And then we made a quick stop at a dog park halfway home so Cinnamon can socialize.

We’re finally back at his place, hanging out on his sofa. Alone, except for Cinnamon. But now it’s starting to get late, and I should either go or bring up the conversation I need to start with Benson.

Lying on a throw pillow in his lap, I slide my fingers through his hair. “ You have the perfect wave right here.”

The way he’s gazing at me? And the slight divot in his neck, near the Adam’s apple, the scar he got playing basketball when he was Dax’s age…something about a moving screen gone wrong.

All of it is messing with my mind.

“Have you heard anything yet?” Benson asks.

“About the job? No. But Inez’s been sending me photos of her babies!” I pull it up on my phone. She even shared a folder of the behind-the-scenes goodness with the newborns. “This one is CeCe and this one is Raya.”

Benson smiles at the photo. “They’re so little.”

I hesitate before diving in. “So, you know how my grandparents aren’t exactly fans of your family?”

“Yeah.” He sounds like he’s bracing himself .

“I got an interesting phone call from Sophie this morning. Because she’d just gotten an interesting phone call from my grandparents.”

“Okay.”

“They’re upset about Peter being fired from Foundations.”

He breathes out a slow breath. “I actually heard about that last night.”

“We’ve got to communicate better.” I offer a shaky smile. “It’s the Great-Open-Blouse-Tragedy-of-Longdale all over again.” I mean it as a joke, but a zip of truth zags through me.

I didn’t let him communicate about my shirt being open. He tried and I didn’t let him and then blamed him for not telling me.

“The buttons thing was not great.” He scrubs his face. “This situation with Peter and your grandparents is confusing. There’s more than meets the eye.”

I can only nod.

His face has agony all over it. “It was hard to say, ‘Hey Claire. Your grandparents are making my father’s life miserable.’ I’ve been waiting for the right time to say anything. But it’s hard when my father...”

“When your father…what?”

He stares into the void. “He and Peter were long-time friends. Maybe the only actual friend he had.”

I hate this heavy feeling inside of me. “My grandparents said something to Sophie. Something about Peter fighting the unlawful termination.”

“Unlawful? We can prove he’s in breach and poaching our clients. We were within our rights to stop him.”

“I totally agree with you. It’s just that…I need to talk to them.”

“That might be wise.”

“Apparently, my grandparents are all up in arms about the situation. ”

“It’ll blow over eventually.”

“Yes, but in the meantime, I need to tell them…about…” I freeze. I can’t say it.

“About?”

“Well, about us . If you’re good with there even being an ‘us.’”

His lips twitch, a little dart of happiness, I hope. “I’m good with there being an ‘us.’”

“You are?”